


Flame For The Frost

by VirtualNight



Category: Original Work
Genre: D&D Backstory, F/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-07 19:25:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17966561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VirtualNight/pseuds/VirtualNight
Summary: After successfully pulling Argyle back from the brink, Maeve is forced to confront the past that pushed her to abandon any sense of reason.





	Flame For The Frost

**Author's Note:**

> This partially co-written with my friend Marly (@manglerfish on twitter, she is also wonderful artist btw), we came up with most of this scene together, and she wrote 99.9% of Argyle's dialogue. These are our D&D characters, who are the perfect couple in the weirdest ways. I love them so much.

It was two days after the fight, and it seemed like the small town nearby was already back to its normal rhythms. Though it was quiet around their camp, Maeve could hear the distant voices and movement of a town trying to return to normalcy. Anyone who knew what exactly had happened was either staying away at her request or out of fear. Perhaps it was both for some of them. The rest of those people, all they knew was that their town was attacked by some kind of creature, and the dragon that helped defend them suddenly tore off into the forest.

Maeve still wasn’t sure if Argyle had known what was happening, or if it was just a mixture of confusion and anger. Either way, it had given her more time to bring him back to himself. Most of what she did was still unclear, aside from climbing to reach his face, talking to him. Everything else she recalled was just emotion. Hope and desperation, denial of this being how things ended between them. And rage.

His eyes opening caught her attention right away but she waited, watching in her peripheral until Argyle shifted under his blankets in an obvious manner. The hesitation made it clear enough that he had needed a moment to himself.

She moved closer, pressing a hand over the compress on his forehead to refresh it with a quick spell. It was another long moment before he spoke.

"Do you think less of me?" His voice was nearly a whisper, too meek and unsure for her comfort.

“Why would I think less of you?” It was a quick, sharp response. It was ridiculous to think she was capable of being so judgmental. She of all people certainly had no place in that.

Argyle tried to quell his nerves with a slow, measured breath. “I let it get the best of me. I’m so precise, so controlled, but I-…this time, I…” His words failed him, voice dying off as he continued to avoid her gaze.

Resting her hand on his, Maeve tried to will him to relax. A spell could accomplish the same, but that would be unfair.

"I am angry. Upset that you would put yourself at risk, but this changes nothing about how I think of you." Maeve kept the tears from her voice. It was better that he know her anger than her sadness. A consequence, rather than guilt.

She could feel his body relax at hearing her words, his eyes meeting hers at last. Argyle returned her gesture, placing his other hand over hers.

“…Thank you. Both for that, and…” he forced out a dull laugh “I don’t know. Not letting them kill me instead, I suppose.”

A heat rose to her cheeks as a memory from that day’s events resurfaced suddenly, and Argyle’s curious expression pushed her to share it. “I believe their concern shifted to your safety after told them I would destroy them and everything they loved if any harm came to you.”

The silence that followed seemed to be less from surprise, and more from his attempt to find the right words. “Well…I suppose those are the methods I should have expected, all things considered…”

Argyle went on for a moment or so longer, but the rest of the words were lost on her. The pain it caused her to reflect on the fact that she hadn’t changed all that much in decades, had begun to rise to the surface.

"I would have destroyed everything and everyone around me, had I lost you. I am not proud of it, but that is what I felt in every fiber of my being as I fought to calm you.." She held her gaze on him as she confessed, unwilling to let it be misunderstood as hyperbole.

Maeve felt his grip tighten, and the frown pulling at his face sent a chilling wave of shame right through her.

“Maeve. If I die because innocent people are being protected from me, you can’t retaliate. You _can’t_.” 

That pulled a frustrated sigh from her. She knew that, of course. "I will…meditate on it. Try to figure out a better outlet, should anything like that ever happen." Words were the only thing Maeve could offer him in this moment.

She knew in her core that she would stop at nothing to keep Argyle here with her. Or to bring him back if he was truly lost, assuming she survived confronting him in that form. The truth was that losing him would be worse than any kind of failure or humiliation. Grief was something she had never been strong enough to handle.

This time the quiet air between them was more comfortable, in spite of her inner turmoil. Maeve shifted, lowering herself onto her side next to him and pressed in close. If he weren’t injured, she would put an arm over him and hold him tight. Bruised ribs surely wouldn’t tolerate such a gesture.

“Argyle…” she paused, looking over his face for any more signs of insecurity “I’ve been through this before, years ago with my first love.” He looked confused, almost asking for clarification before she went on abruptly. “This whole…dangerous sort of situation. Different circumstances for certain, but…” She could feel her own voice start to tremble and she hated it. Hoping that it was imperceptible, she pushed through the resistance she could feel in her throat. That tight ache of holding back the floodgates.

“We were happy, but other’s were dissatisfied with the arrangement.” She chose her words carefully, straying far from the details. “They made certain that I had no path to choose but the one they forged for me.” 

It took a few breaths to steady her nerves again. Maeve knew that if Argyle said anything she would lose that composure, but he remained still. Giving her time. It wasn’t enough. She could feel the sting in her eyes, her vision clouding over with tears she had refused herself for so long.

“I lost my senses when I saw what they’d done. By the time they returned to me, I was in a tavern bed miles away from our home and Naoise was tending to my wounds.” her eyes met Argyle’s as she let out an unsteady sigh “My brother didn’t want me to see it…”

That was enough for him to understand what had happened, but she hadn’t been prepared to relive it. Maeve had spent decades running from that past, trying to fill her mind with new memories while denying her heart any closure. She had done everything so… _wrong_.

Pressing her face into Argyle’s shoulder, she tried to avoid spiraling into rethinking all of her decisions. It was his voice that actually pulled her from it.

“I’m sorry I put you through that. I know you never told me, but it wasn’t fair of me to take such a risk, considering our, ah…feelings for one another.”

It took her a moment, but the faltering words brought different feelings to the surface. Her chest felt lighter. “Are you still feeling bashful about it? After the things we’ve done together.” She lifted a hand to his face. A reassurance, encouragement not to look away from her as she met his eyes.

“Well…some days I wake up, and for a split second it seems like it’s been a dream. I feel like I don’t-” She stopped him from saying that, a gentle touch to his lips.

“Silly man. Do you think I would be with anyone who didn’t deserve me?”

She could feel more heat building in his cheeks at that, but it also got him to smile.

“ _You?_ No, I suppose not.”


End file.
